Innocence
by Rising Light
Summary: The snow is an intriguing thing...its innocence is remarkable. Mylene Wilder's last moments. Rewrite of an older story.


**insert disclaimer here**

**Self-explanatory. I don't own Tales of Symphonia.**

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It's been a long time since I've seen snow, nearly nine years now. I look up from my letter and find myself captivated with the snow, still gently falling from the steely sky. Meltokio doesn't usually get snow, since it's so far from Celsius's seal. A smile tugs at my lips as I muse at the thought of going outside and running around like a child. However, as soon as the thought enters my head it leaves it, and my smile falls; I'm no longer a child, and the snow no longer contains the innocence which it once held.

It is with a reluctant sight that I return to my letter. I glance over at the contents, written in my precise handwriting:

_To his excellency the Pope:_

_I regret to inform you that I, Mylene Wilder, request a separation from my husband, the Chosen of Mana. Although it is highly unorthodox, I feel it is necessary due to some of my husband's actions. Since the Church already has its heir to the Chosen's lineage, it should not be too difficult a task to perform._

_As such, it is of no concern to me who retains custody of Zelos Wilder. Keep in mind that, should I keep sole custody of him, I will need sufficient funds to support both my son and myself. This, too should not be too difficult. _

My letter is not yet finished, but it shouldn't take much longer to complete it. I just need to add in more fluff to make my case sound. The Pope won't be happy when he reads this, but what should it matter? My happiness wasn't put in consideration when I was forced to marry the Chosen when I was hardly an adult. My happiness wasn't put in consideration when my husband snuck off with his half-elf whore and became the father of another child.

When have my feelings ever mattered?

A knock on the door catches my ear, and in the soft, controlled voice that I've acquired over the years I say, "Come in."

A head of bright red hair peers into my office. "Hi Mommy," Zelos says cautiously, knowing how much I hate being disturbed. He looks like an exact replica of his father, with one excption: his eyes. Those bright blue eyes are one-hundred-percent mine.

I wonder what he'd look like if he was a girl, like he was supposed to be, like I wanted him to be.

Despite myself, a smile forms on my face. "What's wrong, Zelos?" My voice isn't filled with concern, yet I can't think of anything else to say.

"Mommy, what's that strange stuff outside?" He enters my office completely, walking over to my side. "It's really cold, and when I tried to pick it up it turned into water!"

With a light chuckle, I place my hand on his shoulder. Most parents would pick up their children and place them on their laps, but I find I'm unable to do that. Even placing my hand on his shoulder feels uncomfortable. "That white stuff is called snow. It turned into water because snow is frozen water, and when it meets your warm hand, it melts."

His big blue eyes widen in amazement. "Really?" He's fascinated by this. "Could you go outside and play in the snow with me? Pleeeaaase?" Those eyes, which are already large for his tiny face, seem to get even bigger. He's turning into his father more and more. Soon, he'll be able to convince any woman to do whatever she wants.

"How about you give me thirty minutes to get ready, alright? You can get Sebastian to help you bundle up in that time."

A smile that seems almost too big to fit on his face appears, and he lets out a cheer of joy. He runs off, and I can hear him calling to our butler to help him get ready. With a sigh, I glance at my letter one last time. I guess I'll finish it later.

I walk through the door that connects my private quarters with my office. I stroll towards my closet, wondering if my clothes from Flanoir are still there. Snow was a common occurrence there, and it made for many romantic moments...

By Martel, I haven't thought of Flanoir in years. As I search through my closet, my memories get the best of me. I recall those days, years ago, when I was in the arms of my lover. He and I were meant to be, even though it was forbidden; after all, it had been decreed when I was born that I was to marry the Chosen of Mana and produce his heir. Despite this, our love grew stronger, to the point where people, who once simply looked away at our trifle affair, became concerned. My parents couldn't wait until I was sixteen and marriageable. The eve of my sixteenth birthday was one of the happiest days of my life...and one of the saddest.

It was the last time I saw my lover.

I shake my head, returning to the task on hand; finding suitable snow clothes. After many minutes, I give up. I suppose it's for the better; the clothes probably wouldn't have fit me anymore, and even if they did, they would be horrendously out of fashion. I couldn't imagine what the neighbors would say if they saw me in clothing from nearly a decade ago, let alone clothing from Flanoir.

In the end, I choose to wear a dark blue skirt over top of thick woolen stockings and a wonderful red sweater. I tie my long blonde hair back into a bun, remembering how in Flanoir I could wear it down to my waist without complaint. But alas, this this Meltokio, and the slightest fashion mistake could ruin a reputation. And, with the way my husband has been acting, I can't afford to risk tainting mine.

After I retrieve a pair of fur-lined gloves from my closet, I exit my room and find myself looking at my son waddling down the stairs. It seems Sebastian is as knowledgeable as Zelos when it comes to snow. I pull off some of his layers so he is can move his limbs with moderate ease. After I do this, he grabs my hand and drags me outside with much more force than I anticipate.

"Look, Mommy!" he cries out, amazed. "It's so pretty!"

As he runs around in the snow, I can't help but agree. The sun begins to peer out from behind the stormy clouds, making everything sparkle and shine. The snow is incredibly smooth, like untouched water. The last few flakes of snow fall from the sky, getting caught on our clothes and in our hair. Zelos amuses himself by attempting to catch these flakes on his tongue. However, he gets frustrated by this and instead grabs a lump of snow from the ground. Before I can stop him, he sticks it in his mouth.

"Don't do that, Zelos!" My voice is stern, like that of a proper parent. "Do you have any idea how many germs there could be in that?" I add to myself that the intense cold will also make his teeth hurt.

As if on cue, he spits out the snow and whimpers. "Mommy, the snow hurt my teeth."

"The pain will go away quickly, " I reply. "Besides, the hot chocolate that the cooks are probably making will help too."

Zelos perks up at the thought of chocolate. "Really?"

I nod. "Yes. But in the meantime, while they're making it, we need to do something!" With a grin, I say, "Do you know what a snowman is?" I feel the child that has been suppressed within me for so long escaping.

Zelos looks at me quizzically. "A...what?"

"A snowman. A man made of snow." Grabbing a large amount of snow, I say, "You make a large sphere of snow, and then you put one that's smaller on top of it, and then you put a third one that's even smaller on top of that. And then you get twigs for arms, some stones for the eyes and mouth, and then a carrot for the nose." Making snowmen had been a form of art in Flanoir.

"Can we make one, Mommy?" he asks earnestly. "Please?"

"I think so." I smile, amazed. I've never been very motherly, yet here I'm actually (dare I say it?) enjoying myself with my son. Perhaps I'll rewrite my letter and say that I want to keep my son with me...

The two of us make a large snowball, Zelos running off around the yard to gather snow. I can't help but notice how our yard is no longer in the pristine condition that the other yards are in. Once again, I'll probably get mocked by the other women for being from Flanoir.

I hate the pettiness of this city.

We keep packing in the snow, Zelos' hair continually getting in his eyes. I have to remember to get the hairdresser to come by and cut it. I can't have it growing to his waist like he's a girl! Once we finish the snowman's body, Zelos runs around, rolling around a snowball to get the snowman's head. Meanwhile, I watch, a wave of sadness rushing through me. I wonder how long he'll keep this innocence of his. Soon, he'll find out what it takes to be the Chosen, what's required of him...

"Mommy!" Zelos' voice jolts me out of my thoughts. "Mommy! Can you put this on the body for me? It's too tall!" He nods towards the body, which is just as tall as him. I pick up the lopsided snowball that's supposed to be the head and place it on top of the body.

"Now we just need the finishing touches," I say softly. I see one of the decorative trees in my yard and, when I'm sure no one is looking, I break two branches off of them. I hear Zelos' snickers behind me as I do this; he knows just as well as I do that it's frowned upon to do that and seems to find it funny that I'd take branches from one of them anyway just for a simple snowman. I stick them in the middle portion of the body.

Zelos tugs my skirt, and I look down to see his hands are full of pebbles. Although he's heavier than I anticipate, I manage to lift him up high enough so he can give the snowman a goofy smile and some eyes.

We examine our work, both of us proud. "It's perfect," Zelos says, and a part of me thinks he's talking about this moment, rather than the snowman. Part of me wants to agree with him.

"Not quite." He looks up at me, confused, and I continue, "Do you know a man who doesn't have a nose?" He looks to the snowman and laughs.

I leave Zelos outside for a moment and run inside to get a carrot from the kitchen. The servants are baffled when I barge in and demand a carrot, but they know better than to refuse my request. They give me one, refusing to look me in the eye. I mentally roll my eyes. Why can't they see me as more than just the Chosen's wife? Why can't they just see me as a regular human being?

I return outside and walk towards my son, carrot in hand. Just as I'm about to reach the snowman, and a sharp pain meets my back. It feels as if something has stabbed me through my abdomen. I look down and see blood pouring from my stomach, staining the snow below me a sickly shade of red.

Behind me, I hear a woman curse and footsteps as someone runs away. So, this attack wasn't meant for me: it was meant for Zelos.

I fall to my knees, unable to stand. I'm losing too much blood. Zelos runs over to me, his blue eyes filling with tears.

"Mommy," he whispers, "Mommy, get better!"

I laugh bitterly before coughing up some blood. I try to turn my head so it doesn't get on my son, but my attempts are futile: blood gets on his jacket. "Zelos," I manage to say. "You...you should," I pause to breathe, my energy dying out, "never," it hurts to speak, "have been," I can't finish my sentence, "born," I try to say more but I can't.

Oh Zelos, I'm so sorry. You should never have been born into this cursed life.

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**A/N: So, this is a rewrite of an older story of mine. I...like to think there's a reason why Mylene said those words to Zelos. I like to think that, somewhere deep within, Mylene actually loved her son, and that something just needed to...bring it out.**

**I just wanted to change the way I perceived her in my older story. I hope you enjoyed it!**


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